Her name on his lips stopped her. She leaned against the wooden gate, buried her face in her arm, and drank in deep lungfuls of air. His hand came down on her shoulder. “Jillian, please, let me—” “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t know what came over me.” He frowned and dropped his hand, waiting for her to continue. She lifted her head. The sun caught and deepened the golden lights radiating from the centers of her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, but I assure you, I’m not going mad, and it has nothing to do with this position of Avery’s that I’ve inherited.” “Jillian—” “You’ll want to be on your way,” she hurried on. “I’m sorry I didn’t have Connor ready when you arrived. I’ll bring his bag down for you.” He stood rooted to the ground as if his legs had lost the ability to move.
